Self-Taught
by scifiromance
Summary: Seven has some questions (and answers) for Chakotay after her first experience of a bachelorette party... Post-Endgame. C/7. One-shot.


**A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.**

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Seven let herself into the apartment, quietly closing the door behind her. Her consideration proved unnecessary as she heard Chakotay thumping around in their bedroom. Evidently his evening had lasted almost as long as her own; at least he certainly wasn't already in bed. The embellishments on her dress, particularly the sequins, were prickling at her skin, catching the fine hairs on her arms and legs. Her toes and heels were really starting to ache in these new shoes, though she'd assiduously made sure the sizing was correct for her feet and had even, as Admiral Janeway had always advised her, made sure to take the time to 'walk them in'. Well, perhaps it had still served her well, she hadn't injured herself like so many of her former crewmates had tonight, although that was perhaps more to do with her sober state and Borg-enhanced sense of balance than any outright preparation.

She glanced at herself briefly in the mirror; yes she looked remarkably intact, considering. It was a something of a relief that she had pushed herself to go more 'glitzy' and 'glam' with her attire than she ever would've comfortably chosen for a usual day; even those expectations that had led to that conclusion had been blown by the sheer eccentricity and ostentatiousness of certain sections of San Francisco at night. Perhaps the most startling thing had been the extent to which her former crewmates had enthusiastically embraced this, but she supposed she was still adjusting to seeing them out of uniform on a regular basis. It was probable that appreciation of this sartorial freedom after so many years explained many of the more…abstract choices. Then again, it was apparently traditional for attire to verge on the comic for the purposes of a 'bachelorette' party. Of course Samantha Wildman wasn't truly a 'bachelorette', but no one had let this technicality disrupt the activities and celebrations. The traditions had been just as steadily adopted for a vow renewal as for a wedding. After an almost eight year separation and a sometimes challenging reunion, Samantha and Greskrendtregk were due all the loving attention and encouragement they could receive.

"Seven?" Chakotay called through from the bedroom.

"Yes, I am back." Seven replied, remembering the 'goody' bag swinging from her hand with a brief flush of self-conscious heat over her cheeks. As she entered the bedroom, she held it discreetly behind her back, even as she thought wryly of how difficult the almost obnoxiously bright pink bag would be to miss. She smiled, some of the inflated confidence she'd felt during the antics and humour of the party returning as her eyes fell on Chakotay. He'd already, wisely, taken off his shoes and was putting them in the wardrobe while undoing the buttons of his shirt. She would've asked him just what had rendered him just so rumpled, but since he'd been attending Gresk's equivalent party, she could guess. Before he turned to face her, she dropped the incriminating bag and nudged it into a corner with her foot.

"Wow…" Chakotay breathed huskily as he turned to face her. She'd gotten ready for Samantha's party at B'Elanna's, and the initial plan for the couple's parties to combine into one during the evening had been forgotten, so he hadn't seen Seven until just then. Her black mini dress was slinky, with sparkling silver shoulder straps, a silver and jet belt to cinch her waist in even further and more silver detail hanging down from the hem to give an illusion of a modicum of further length where the dress stopped well above her knee. That and the black beaded stilettos made her legs go on forever. As he slowly drank in all that and the loose waves of her hair, he suddenly wished he'd unbuttoned his trousers before his shirt. "Tú ves divina, corazón…" His heart warmed further as her smile in return was, as always, endearingly pleased, touched even. He closed the gap between them, laughing a little with her as they noticed, with him barefoot and her in particularly high heels, she stood taller than him. The shift didn't give him any pause in kissing her soundly.

Seven chuckled lightly, "I assure you, I could be considered understated compared with some of our friends tonight." She returned his kiss, deepened it. She could taste alcohol, but it wasn't unpleasant, he hadn't overindulged, as his tightening, perfectly self-aware, embrace of her body proved. Her fingers brushed against, then lingered over, his warm bare chest as her own hands roamed too, tugged at the open shirt. She was lucky in that he wasn't a heavy drinker at all, given her own exceptionally low alcohol tolerance. A sip of his wine glass to get the flavour with a meal was enough to get her pleasantly 'buzzed', a glass of her own would've left her a giggling mess. She could still feel the effects of the weak spritzer she'd tried at the beginning of the night in her blood.

They moved back as one until Chakotay dropped onto their bed, half pulling her down with him until she steadied and smirked knowingly at him, bending to take off her heels instead. Chakotay was fine with watching her. "So how was your first bachelorette party?" he asked, genuinely interested. He had to admit that, when they'd first been invited, he hadn't been at all sure if, realistically, she should go at all, but he'd held back his opinion, since Seven tended to take him seriously. Her culture shock on getting to Earth had been massive, and he'd gladly helped her through it, but he'd never _stopped_ her doing anything he didn't see as an outright danger. Seven might be new to things, naïve at times, but she was the farthest from stupid, strong, and admirably good at coping, all things considered. He'd gotten into this relationship to love her, not to patronise her after all. Now he was relieved he hadn't dissuaded her, because, looking at her, it seemed as if she'd enjoyed herself.

"It was…" Seven hesitated for a moment as she neatly set her shoes by the foot of the bed, "…not what I expected." A little rueful self-consciousness coloured her face, "However little idea I had of what to expect."

"I don't think anyone can know exactly what to expect at these type of events…" Chakotay assured her, smiling wryly, "…particularly where Voyager's crew is involved and inhibition free." He shook his head, "Gresk was a good sport taking us on."

"As was Samantha Wildman." Seven agreed, "I hope I was too." She sat on Chakotay's lap as he kissed her cheek in response. She grinned as she heard him grunt, perhaps a badly suppressed groan, as she made herself comfortable. He playfully retaliated by very deliberately stroking her thigh but she wasn't complaining. A soft sigh of pleasured relief left her as his other hand found the exact point on her back where the nerves, chafing continually against the implants embedded in her spine, always ached after hours on her feet and began to rub gently. "Oh…" She breathed, letting her head fall to nestle into his broad shoulder, but the smell that hit her sensitive nose made her recoil. "What…"

Chakotay laughed at her almost comically disgusted expression, her nose scrunching dramatically. "Sorry, Antaran cigars." He'd been aware that the scent still clung to him, but he hadn't thought it was _that_ bad. Sometimes he forgot to take Seven's enhanced senses into account on simple things like that, but then again, he'd often remembered them at the right times too…

Seven took a deep breath in a fruitless effort to cleanse her nose, but rapidly decided to tolerate it, not wanting to sacrifice their closeness in exchange for olfactory comfort. "Those are rare." She commented.

"A bit more so now, since we smoked through four boxes." Chakotay replied, "I only managed one of the things, but a lot of them enjoyed the reek. The rumours are right, you can get anything at a _kaybin_ bar."

"I believe that is their appeal." Seven answered drily. Her eyebrows arched, "You _really_ went to a _kaybin_ bar?" _Kaybin_ was a Denobulan institution of sorts, the planet's cities had districts dedicated to the bars, but she would've thought it slightly too involved for humans, given that Denobulans didn't sleep and were famously open-minded.

"The biggest one in San Francisco." Chakotay confirmed, not without a hint of pride. "Tom booked it for us. There aren't many places who'll take fifty odd Starfleet officers at once you know, not just after freshman week at the Academy anyway. Apparently it went a little too wild this year."

"How wild did you go exactly?" Seven asked curiously, "I didn't think you'd enjoy the hallucinatoriums they offer…" Again, due to the fact that they rarely slept, Denobulans didn't dream readily, so they used perfected artificial means in their hallucinatoriums to cleanse the sub-conscious. Given Chakotay's deeply ingrained fear of losing his mental faculties, she knew he wouldn't have relished any such experience.

Chakotay indeed shook his head vigorously, "No!" He winced slightly at his own tone. "Really we just ate our dinner there. We spent most of the night in a _dabo_ club."

"Were you successful?" Seven asked, aware that she sounded mildly dubious. She was not particularly familiar with gambling, Chakotay himself had restricted it on Voyager. On Earth however, she'd seen _dabo_ tables often enough, generally manned by Ferengi whose attitudes veered between falsely genial and hawkish. Then there were the scantily clad _dabo_ girls and boys. Living distraction tactics. Given what she'd experienced herself tonight, _they_ were likely the reason that pursuit had been chosen. She tried to quash her instantaneous feelings of possessive jealousy as not only irrational, but hypocritical, but the effort was fruitless. It was difficult to suppress any emotion, positive or negative, when Chakotay was even marginally involved, and she'd reaped the benefits of no longer trying to, but still some feelings irritated her.

"Lost every game." Chakotay readily admitted with a sheepish snort of laughter. Oh, so evidently he _had_ been distracted, or she utterly overestimated his ability to transfer his command 'poker face' to gaming pursuits. "But I wasn't fleeced, since I didn't play with credits or latinum, I just kept buying rounds for my table when I lost." He grimaced jokingly, "Although since the Ferengi was selling all the drinks as well as running the tables, he still got his profit out of me." He gripped Seven's hips, tilting her closer to him as he chuckled self-deprecatingly, "You have no idea how much flak I got for being so hard on gambling on the ship, when everyone saw how shit I was at every game! Apparently I narrowed the rules to save my pride…"

"I doubt you have ever _narrowed_ the scope of any Starfleet regulation." Seven remarked fondly as she finally shifted to properly straddle him in one fluid movement.

"That would be…about right." Chakotay replied hoarsely.

Seven smiled at him, her white teeth and glowing eyes triumphant. "I think I can imagine the reaction, considering the teasing the Admiral received when we heard the strong Irish accent of one of her impersonators…"

That was enough for Chakotay to lift his face from her breasts, eyebrows high. "You actually went there? To the club where they impersonate famous crews? I thought Kathryn was joking about that!"

"She was not." Seven confirmed, "It's technically a drag and cabaret club, the specialisation in Starfleet is a side line." She snaked her arms around his neck, enjoying the feel of his well-developed shoulder muscles. "They put on a Voyager show especially for us."

"Por supuesto." Chakotay said with an arch grin, "What did you make of it?"

"I took it in the humorously irreverent tone I believe it was intended." Seven assured him seriously, then added more lightly, " _I_ was surprisingly popular."

"Surprisingly?" Chakotay echoed, softly kissing the swell of her breasts, grinning widely against her warm skin when her breath caught. "I thought you would be."

"Only the Admiral was more so. However, if you include the men and women who chose to portray the Captain while she was portraying Queen Arachnia, and the ones who preferred Two of Three from the Doctor's holo-novel…"

"Dios mio, has Captain Proton spread now as well as the Doctor's story?"

"Apparently Captain Proton is currently at number 23 on the holo-novel charts and Photons Be Free is being described as a 'modern cult classic'."

Chakotay shook his head in disbelief even as he sniggered. Then he dared to ask, "I presume 'I' was present too?"

"Oh yes." Seven cheerily confirmed, leaning into him and very deliberately planting a kiss on his tattoo. "One in particular had tattooed himself very enthusiastically…"

"Did you let him know if he was true to life?"

"I thought the convention was that a lady does not tell?" Seven questioned coyly.

"You've broken convention before, mi amor." Chakotay whispered huskily as he eagerly resumed his ministrations to her chest.

"Hmm…" Seven heard herself purr in reply as she embedded her fingers in his thick hair.

"Did you go anywhere else?" Chakotay asked as his hands ran up and down her thighs, pushing the hem of her dress up further. "Or did you all enjoy giving out tips to your professional doppelgangers all night?"

"After our meal and entertainment there, we moved on to a holo-programme of a male stripping club." Seven replied matter-of-factly, rocking against him soothingly when he bristled, likely just an instinctive reaction, much like her own to the idea of him around _dabo_ girls. "But many were displeased with the effect, and argued for flesh and blood males, I concurred." She stilled for a moment apprehensively, Chakotay knew about her…experiments on the holodeck, but it was still a sensitive subject for her.

Chakotay gave her a squeeze, "I can understand that." He wondered what the Doctor would've made of such an argument, given his penchant for holographic rights and beautiful women, including Seven, but he knew biology better than anyone. It would've hurt his male pride to hear it, but photons and programming were no substitute for pheromones and warm, living flesh. But then, that was probably his own opinion colouring things.

"So we progressed to a real strip club one of the Tuvok impersonators recommended."

Chakotay gave a start, frowning at her uncertainly, "Isn't it considered offensive to wear the fake ears?"

"He didn't require prosthetic ears, he _was_ a Vulcan. Presumably that's why he chose to impersonate Mr Tuvok."

"Eh, un momento…" Chakotay muttered, blinking. "You're saying an _actual_ Vulcan recommended a good strip club to you?" There was also the matter of how much effort did it take for a Vulcan to impersonate another Vulcan, but maybe thinking like that was more offensive than wearing fake ears.

"Ja, det är vad jag sa." Seven answered shortly, growing impatient with his incredulity.

Chakotay's hands moved to stroke her sides, as if smoothing invisible feathers. "Don't get irritated with me. You have to admit it is a little funny, right?"

"It is…unexpected." Seven conceded, now trying not to smile. "But he was correct, the Dreamboys presented a good show."

"The…Dreamboys?" Chakotay repeated slowly.

"That was what they called themselves." Seven's eyes glinted teasingly, "They were quite…captivating."

Chakotay's mouth quirked, "Captivating, huh?" In one practiced move he turned her out of his lap and spread her out on the bed. He hung over her, a big, devilish grin playing across his lips. "I can be captivating."

Seven shivered involuntarily at the timbre of his rich voice. "I know." She said breathlessly, but in that charged moment somehow made her eyes swivel guiltily to the discarded bag she'd brought home. She swallowed and propped herself up on her elbows, "Chakotay…"

The fire burning through his body was beat back a little by suddenly anxiously searching look in her soulful eyes. "What is it?" he asked gently, touching her cheek.

Seven unconsciously leaned into his touch but her voice was much less certain. "Do you require me to be more…adventurous sexually? More…" She struggled for the right word, "…fantastical?"

Chakotay stared at her uncomprehendingly. She wasn't sure whether to be reassured by that or not. "What the hell were those strippers doing that makes you think we aren't…"

"It wasn't them." Seven cut him off quickly, "Though it was amusing in its way, that was mostly gyrating that could hardly be considered necessary." Then again, she'd thought a lot of things unnecessary before tonight that apparently were not, things that hadn't even occurred to her. She saw him relax a bit, though still eyeing her quizzically, "But part of the club was dedicated to the marketing of what they called toys, props and lingerie. It was the group consensus that we…engage in that marketing."

"Oh…" Chakotay breathed as he finally realised what she meant. "They took you to a lingerie party."

"Yes." Seven murmured, "It was somewhat…eye-opening." Certainly. She'd soon seen the point in the lingerie, titillation, but otherwise she'd been lost initially. It wasn't that she didn't own nice underwear, she kept every piece of clothing she owned in good condition, but she owned it precisely to wear under clothes. The colour palette was largely white, nude and black, and she restricted lace to trim, since it made her itch. The swimwear she owned was bolder, a sapphire blue one-piece, a red bikini once she'd gotten over most of her implants being on show… She hadn't really thought of needing to be more exotic, since Chakotay tended to take her clothes so quickly anyway that it hardly seemed necessary. Everything at the party had been so much more elaborate, and then there had been the role play outfits, apparently following the same general line of thought as the impersonators at the club. "I am sorry I was not aware of such requirements before."

"Seven…" Chakotay promptly lay down beside her, turning her into him. "It's not _requirements_ , far from it!" He pressed his forehead to hers, his hand over her heart. "You haven't heard me complaining, have you?"

Seven couldn't help but give a low laugh. "No…" He peered intently into her face. "The opposite." She blushed, "For myself also."

"Exacto." Chakotay told her, grinning warmly. "Look, think of what you saw tonight as _additions_ rather than requirements, extra fun, new experiences." He sighed wryly, "Or if you want to be cynical, marketing ploys." He gave her a long, tender kiss as she responded to that with a ghost of a smile, "Remember what I said about overanalysing." He murmured, "We're attracted to each other and the emotion is there, nobody _needs_ anything else."

"I agree." Seven whispered, placing her hand on the back of his neck to kiss him back hard. She clearly remembered what he'd said about overanalysing, the only piece of gentle advice he'd given her, wise enough not to hold his greater experience over her. He'd been nervous too, had admitted that the first time with anyone even after previous was nerve-wracking. She was glad now that she hadn't subjected herself to research, to perfection, performance anxiety was acute enough, and she knew without false modesty that she'd learned quickly and adeptly. "You're content then?" she whispered as she finally pulled his shirt off him entirely.

Chakotay kissed her lips, "Content…" Then her throat, "Loving…" Then back to her breasts as he slid down the straps of her dress, hugging her tight. "Satisfied…"

"Then you are not interested in what I did decide to purchase?" Seven asked quietly, half teasing, half curious.

Chakotay broke off, his attention back on her face. "You're serious?"

Seven sighed, shifting on the bed in frustration. Actually, this could've waited until they were both initially sated. "Unfortunately, yes…" She admitted, blushing. She felt decidedly foolish now.

Chakotay laughed softly, "Not unfortunately, it could be fun." He copied her trademark arched eyebrow, "Come on Seven, who else were you intending to show it all to?" He saw her embarrassed reluctance and again cupped her cheek, "We'll laugh about it querida."

"Just as we did at the party." Seven realised wryly, sitting up but not bothering to readjust her dress. "Over there." She indicated the bag, watching as Chakotay dropped from the bed to the floor on his knees, watching his damp back ripple.

He yanked the first thing his hands found out of the back, his smile and his eyes widening further as he looked at the turquoise and black basque, all silk and lace and ribbons. "Okay, I'll admit I want to take this off of you…"

"It's called 'Tropical Lush'." Seven explained, "There was a red one on display I preferred, but it was sold out."

Chakotay glanced over his bare shoulder at her, "I'm happy enough with this one." He reached back into the bag and pulled out a pair of barely there red panties. "These are red." He said hopefully.

Seven squinted at them, blushing. "I think those are probably too small for me…"

"That's sort of the point, they're not meant to cover anything."

Seven shook her head, "Obviously not." She sighed to herself again, "I was conservative Chakotay. Everyone was gleeful and bought more than me. B'Elanna laughed so much at one particular gold bikini, that wasn't even suitable for swimming, that wine came out of her nose, but she still purchased it, saying it would fulfil a movie fantasy of Tom's."

"Don't ask me about the specifics of that one." Chakotay told her dubiously, "As for everyone being gleeful, they were drunk, and everyone likes to feel a little naughty occasionally."

"Then there was the 'role play'. Reproductions of old Starfleet uniforms…" Sven shook her head.

"The ones from Kirk's time? The mini-dresses?" He chuckled sheepishly at her raised eyebrows, "I like the dress you're wearing even more, so don't worry."

"And doctor and nurse uniforms being sold as a pair…" Seven shook her head in bewilderment, "I don't see what is arousing about your partner pretending to perform medical procedures on you." She shuddered.

Chakotay returned to join her on the bed, "That was never my thing either. I've had too many real medical procedures I guess." He squeezed Seven's hand sympathetically, she'd had more than anyone on Voyager, more than anyone should ever have to have. "But each to their own I suppose."

"Indeed." Seven murmured, then decided to regard him frankly. "Do you have a fantasy?" Chakotay froze for a split second, then decisively leaned over and whispered into her ear. Seven considered for a moment. " _That_ one I _can_ understand." She remarked conclusively, catching his eye. "We can do that, repeatedly if we so wish."

"And your fantasy?" Chakotay asked, ready to be happily obliging.

"I do not know if I have a specific one." Seven admitted ruefully, "Beyond what we do already and what you just suggested of course." She frowned slightly, "Am I deficient?"

"No!" Chakotay assured her, laughing and kissing her all at once. "But we'll find you one at some point I'm sure." He pulled her back into a full, strong and warm embrace.

Seven gave in to his hold completely but still dared to ask, "Would you object if we relocated to the shower, to rid you of that cigar smell?"

Chakotay managed to propel off the bed, on the right side for the bathroom, half carrying her. "See? You know how to seduce a man!"

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 **A/n: Please review. Another foray for me into what I call smutty fluff. ;)**

 **Firstly, Chakotay says 'You look gorgeous, sweetheart.' Then, after Seven tells him a special Voyager show was put on, he comments, 'Of course.' Seven says at one point in Swedish, 'Yes, that's what I said.'**


End file.
